


Good Enough

by TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite



Series: Request Fills [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Brother-Sister Relationships, F/F, Gen, Reader-Insert, bisexual!reader, sister reader, winchester reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 12:08:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11600337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite/pseuds/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite
Summary: The reader is the middle Winchester, but she doesn’t feel like she’s good enough in comparison to her hero brothers.





	Good Enough

Sometimes, you feel rather useless.

You love your brothers and all, but sometimes- like now, as they leave on yet another hunt while you stay holed up in the bunker with a stupid sprained ankle- you feel fucking useless and you hate it.

“I’ll call you when we get to the motel,” Dean says, bending to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Call us if you need anything, okay?”

“I will, Dean,” you promise.

Sam drops a kiss on your forehead and follows Dean up the stairs. Once the door slams shut behind them, you let out a deep sigh and slump forward against the map table. You wait until you’re sure the impala is gone before grabbing your crutch from where it’s leaning against your chair. You leverage yourself onto your good foot and make your way down the halls to your room.

Everything is already packed- not that you have much to pack. You’re like Sam in that regard. Been uprooted too many times to feel good about setting down roots. Uprooting yourself again is easy. Uprooting yourself without your brothers, though- now, that is the hardest part.

You linger in the library, taking it all in one last time before setting all your phones on one of the tables. You don’t want Sam and Dean to be able to find you until you’re ready to be found.

Two duffel bags and a box are loaded in the trunk of your car, a 1950 Cadillac Coupe Deville. You found the baby blue car in Bobby’s yard years ago. It took a lot of time, stolen credit cards, and help from Dean, but she drives like a dream now. You make sure the tank is full before leaving, topping it off from the big jugs Dean keeps on hand. Don’t want to break down on the side of the road somewhere.

You’ve had this planned for weeks. You already know where you’re heading, already have the route planned down to the rest stops, all plotted out on a map tucked in the bottom of the glove box. You’ll dig it out later, you don’t need it yet. You settle yourself in the driver’s seat and slide the key into the ignition. You draw a deep breath and turn the key.

The car roars to life, a vibration that feels wrong in your body despite your love for this specific car- it’s not the rumble you’re used to, not the one that lulled you to sleep during overnight drives and carried you safely from danger. But there’s nothing you can do about that. You’ll just have to get used to it.

It’s strange, making the drive away from the bunker alone. You have your copy of the key, but you’re not sure if you’ll ever be back. You don’t want to be gone forever, you love your brothers too much to never see them again, but you can’t live there anymore.

* * *

Dean tosses his duffel onto his motel bed and flops down beside it with a sigh. While Sam gets settled on the other bed, Dean digs his phone out of his pocket. He finds her number through muscle memory and presses the phone to his ear.

When the phone rings through to voicemail the first time, he doesn’t feel too concerned. There’s a number of reasons why she wouldn’t be able to answer, especially once he takes into account that she’s a little crippled at the moment.

“She didn’t answer?” Sam asks, glancing up from where he’s laying down salt lines.

“Yeah, probably just left her phone someone and couldn’t get to it.” Dean sits up and dials again. This time when there’s no answer, he frowns. “Maybe she’s in the shower?”

Sam shakes his head. “Unlikely. She showered this morning after we worked out and she hates having to shower more than once in a day.”

Feeling worried now, Dean tries her second, third, and fourth cells. When there’s no answer on any of those, he knows something is wrong.

“Sam, she’s not answering,” he says, standing. “Something’s not right.”

“I’ll call Cas, have him check up on her,” Sam says. “Until we can get back. We can be there in a few hours, if we head out now.”

Dean is nodding, already gathering up his things again. “I’ll call Garth, have him find someone else nearby to take the case.”

* * *

“She’s not here,” Cas says the moment they enter the bunker. “All her things are gone and she left her phones.”

“Why would she leave?” Sam says, already moving anxiously around the library. “And without telling us? Dean, something doesn’t feel right about this.”

“There’s no sign of a struggle,” Cas tells him. “She left of her own free will.”

“She must have taken one of the cars.” Dean is already moving up the stairs, back to the garage. Sam and Cas follow him. “She took her Cadillac”

“I’ll check the traffic cams,” Sam suggests. “That’ll give a direction at least.”

Dean nods, bracing his hands against the hood of the impala. Sam vanishes back down the stairs, leaving him alone with Cas.

“Why would she leave?’ he asks after a long moment.

“I don’t know, Dean.”

“And without telling us?” he turns to face his friend. “I don’t understand.”

“I know.”

Dean rubs a hand over his face. “She has to have a reason.”

“We’ll find her and ask her. It’ll be okay, Dean.”

He’s shaking his head. “If she doesn’t want to be found, we won’t find her. She learned from John Winchester.”

Cas’ hand is firm on his friend’s shoulder. “We’ll find her.”

* * *

Sam is hunched over his laptop, the pile of Y/N’s cell phones next to him on the table. He glances up when Dean and Cas come down the stairs.

“I found her,” he says. “She crossed through an intersection headed north about a half hour after we left.” He meets Dean’s gaze. “This wasn’t a spontaneous decision. She planned on leaving.”

Dean is shaking his head, expression unreadable. “No. Why would she do that?”

“I don’t know, Dean, but I can’t hack any cameras further out and she’s got almost six hours head start.”

“We’re never going to find her,” Dean sighs, slumping into the chair across from Sam.

“Don’t say that.”

“What? It’s true.” Dean glares at his brother. “Clearly she had a reason for leaving, and a damn good one at that.”

Sam braces his elbows against the table and runs his fingers through his hair. “What did we do to make her leave?”

* * *

You toss your duffels on the end of the bed. You’re going to have to get some new cell phones, maybe make new aliases, and definitely some extra cash. You have a fair amount saved up, but it’s never bad to have more, especially in this line of work. You’ll have to hit up a pool table after dinner.

It’s been a long time since you had a room to yourself. The boys try to get you one when there’s enough funds, but you’ve been sharing a motel room on the last few hunts and there’s only so much of that you can take.

Maybe it’s because you didn’t grow up with them. You don’t have their bond. Hell, you’re not even a real Winchester, no matter what the boys say or how long you’ve been with them.

Twenty-one years, you realize after some quick mental math. You’ve been with the Winchesters for almost twenty-one years, most of your life. You still remember the day you first met them- the day your biological father died. But you don’t want to think about that. You need to focus on getting dinner and hustling some pool tables. You definitely don’t need to focus on how long it’s been since you hustled a pool table on your own.

There’s a decent-looking bar across the street from your motel. The bartender is a pretty girl about your age. If Dean were here, he would have her wrapped around his finger with a few words while you and Sam rolled your eyes at his cheesy pick-up lines that somehow always work. Something about those big green eyes and pouty lips just knocks ‘em dead. Plus, they didn’t grow up with him. That probably helps.

The pool tables are unfortunately empty, but you really don’t want to hunt down another bar tonight, so you’ll just have to put off getting more cash for another day. You lean your crutches against the bar and pick a stool.

“You better not be drinking away the pain,” the bartender says, eyeing your crutches.

You chuckle. “Nah, it’s just a sprained ankle. Nothing I can’t handle. I don’t have any painkillers in my system, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Good. New to town?” she asks, sliding an open beer bottle across the bar for you. “I’ve never seen you around here before.”

“Just passing through,” you say with a smile. She really is quite pretty and she seems interested. Might just be because of her job, but you don’t mind. You’re more than happy to be cliche tonight and flirt with the bartender. Hey, if you end up with her in your bed? Even better. It’s been far too long since you were with a girl- or a guy, for that matter.

“You staying at Nightowl? Across the street?” she inquires. She leans her elbows on the bar, giving you a peek at her cleavage and flashing a name tag that reads “Sara.” You let your eyes wander a moment to show that you’re definitely interested before jumping them back to her face.

“Yeah, I am. I’ll only be here for the night. I was going to pick up some extra cash, but, well…” you shoot a pointed look at the empty pool tables.

“Yeah, sorry about that. It’s Single’s Night at a bar across town, so all the regular players are over there. They’ll be there until late, if you want to head over.”

You shake your head. “It can wait. Besides, seems like the better company is here.” you give her your best grin and watch the blush color her cheeks.

A small part of you is sad to leave town the next morning, but you have a hickey on your collarbone and a new number in your phone, so things aren’t looking too bad.

* * *

The boys catch up with you after a week. Sam spots your car in a motel parking lot. There’s a lone vampire hunting in this town, which bumped it higher on the list of potential stops. Dean gets them a room. The lady behind the counter refuses to tell him what room is yours, but you can’t stay inside forever. They’ll eventually figure it out. In the meantime, Sam researches the case.

Cas sees you first, crossing the parking lot with a take out bag from the nearby diner. He see the exact moment that you recognize the impala- your doubletake, the quick glance around to make sure the brother aren’t nearby, the way you pick up your pace before vanishing into a room on the end of the row, on the other side of the L-shape the motel makes. Cas makes a mental note of the number.

“I know what room she’s in,” he tells Sam when the man emerges from the bathroom with a towel around his waist. Dean is out cold on his bed, exhausted from driving overnight to get here.

“What room?” Sam asks, grabbing clothes from his bag and throwing them on without any thought for whether he’s dry or not.

Cas shakes his head. “Let me go. I’ll talk to her, see if I can understand why she left. If you go, she may just run again.”

“Cas, she’s probably already running.”

“Then I’ll go now. If I can catch her before she leaves, maybe I can convince her to stay.”

Sam looks hesitant, glancing at the door nervously, but he finally nods.

* * *

You’ve just finished packing when Cas appears.

“Holy shit, Cas!” you shout, dropping your bag. Luckily there’s nothing breakable in there. Otherwise, he would be paying for it.

“My apologies,” he says sincerely, looking very concerned as you pick up your bag. You move toward the door, only to find him standing in your way.

“Cas, let me through,” you say.

“I need to talk to you.”

You rub a hand over your face. “Cas-”

“Y/N. Please. The boys are worried. It’s been a week and they’ve hardly slept. Just tell me what happened.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I can’t help you fix it.”

“You can’t fix it.” You set your bag on the end of the bed and sit down heavily next to it.

“You won’t know unless you let me try.”

He’s right. “I… it’s hard to explain, Cas.”

He sits beside you. “Take your time.”

You take a deep breath. “Okay. Look, you know I’m not really a Winchester, right?”

“You’re as much of a Winchester as Sam or Dean. How could you doubt that?”

You shoot him an incredulous look. “I don’t fit, Cas. I never really have. Look, they’re both Winchesters. Their fates have been planned since before they were born. They’re archangel vessels and meant to save the world and all that, and I’m just… me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Cas tells you.

“I know, it’s just… they’re heroes, Cas. I’m not anything. I just feel like… like I’m not good enough.”

You watch the understanding dawn in his eyes. “Y/N, would you consider talking to Sam and Dean? They want you with them, but they don’t know that you’re feeling this way.”

You shake your head. “No, I-”

“Y/N.” He grabs your hand, drawing your eyes to his. Damn, those blue eyes. They get you every time. “Please? Just talk. You don’t have to stay.”

“I…” you say. “Fine. I’ll talk.”

Cas grins, his wide gummy smile that always makes your heart beat a little faster. “Thank you.”

* * *

Cas walks with you across the parking lot to the motel room the brothers are sharing. He opens the door and goes inside, holding it for you to follow him.

Dean is awake now, sitting on the end of the bed with a beer dangling from his fingers. Sam is dressed and sitting in on of the chairs. They both shoot to their feet when they see you behind Cas.

“Y/N,” Sam sighs, stepping forward. Cas puts a hand up and the younger brother stops in his tracks.

“She’s willing to talk,” Cas tells them, glancing at you for confirmation. You nod and he continues. “But I have something to say first.”

You’re not sure what you’re expecting, but Cas yelling is not it. You’re not sure you’ve ever hear Cas angry, to be honest. He always keeps a level head- at least, he does around you.

“What kind of brothers are you?” he growls, glaring between the two of them. Both look just as shocked as you feel. “I might not know a lot about healthy family relationships, but one thing I do know is that no decent brother would allow his sister to feel like anything less than special. Yes, you love Y/N, but sometimes you sure have a funny way of showing it and sometimes you can both be very stupid. The emotional constipation, hero-complex mess you two have might work between you, but all it does it make your sister feel worthless.”

Dean curses under his breath, falling back onto the bed. He presses the back of the hand holding his beer to his forehead. Sam is stunned into silence, but looks very ashamed of himself.

“You’re going to fix this,” Cas orders. “Both of you, together, because I imagine this is something you should be able to agree on. I’m going to take care of the vampire. You better have worked this out by the time I get back.”

Cas vanishes with a flutter of wings, leaving you alone with your brothers. Both look shocked, but ashamed. You don’t want them to be ashamed. It’s not their fault.

“Y/N?” Sam say quietly. He looks like he wants to come closer, but isn’t sure if you’ll let him.

You shake your head, turning towards the door. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come-”

“No, Y/N, wait-” Sam crosses the room quickly to stop you. “Please. Talk to us.” He’s doing that thing where he hunches his shoulders to make himself appear less intimidating.

“Sam-”

Dean is on his feet now. “If you want to go, you can go. We won’t make you stay. But please just tell us why first? Was Cas telling the truth? Do you really feel that way?”

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest. “Yeah, that’s… that’s the gist of it.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Sam asks.

“If I had, how would you have reacted?” the look they shoot each other is all the answer you need. “Exactly. Figured just leaving was better. Like a band-aid. I wasn’t planning on you guys catching up so soon.”

“It was kinda pure luck,” Dean admits. “You’ve always been the better tracker.”

“You’re just saying that to be nice.”

“Except it’s true,” Sam points out. “You’re the best tracker we know. And don’t get us started on your knife skills. Y/N, you’re one of the most badass hunters ever. Without you, we would both be dead several times over.”

“You’ve already been dead several times over,” you say with a small smile you can’t help.

Sam rolls his eyes, but his shoulders loosen. “Several times more.”

“Point is,” Dean cuts in, “you’re just as much of a hero as we are, if not more. You’ve been there through everything, no matter what. Without you backing us up, we never could do the things we’ve had to do.” He comes in on your other side and lays big hands on your shoulders. “We don’t care that you don’t have a big grand destiny planned out before you were born. In fact, I prefer it that way. I don’t want you to ever have to go through the stuff we’ve gone through. But if for some reason fate needed you, that would be okay, too, because there would be no one better for the job.”

“You’re gonna make me cry,” you manage, unable to look your older brother in the eye.

“That’s okay. Come here.”

Dean tucks you into his chest, just like he does when you’ve had a bad dream or a rough hunt. His body is solid and familiar against your own.

“You scared the shit out of us, kid,” he says. “Disappearing like that. No text, no phone call, not even a note?”

“‘M sorry,” you mumble into his chest.

He pulls back after a strong squeeze, letting go almost reluctantly. Sam steps in as soon as Dean is out of the way. Your little brother is not so little anymore. His arms swallow you up.

“Come home?” he asks into your hair.

You nod, curling your fingers into his shirt. Not everything is fixed, but you have hope that it’s gonna get better.

* * *

Cas returns just before you head out. You’re loading your duffels into the trunk of your car when he arrives. There’s new blood on his coat, but he’s in one piece and that’s what matters.

“I’m guessing it went poorly?” Cas says sadly, watching you slam your trunk.

You laugh and shake your head. “No, it went great. We’re going to head back to the bunker.”

The angel visibly relaxes, grabbing you for a sudden hug. You make a soft “oof” noise, but pull your arms free so you can his him back.

“I’m so glad,” he says, stepping back. “The Winchesters are best together.”

You grin up at him. “I’m starting to realize that. Are the vampires all gone?”

He nods. “I took care of it.”

“Good. Then as an honorary Winchester, you get to ride with me.


End file.
